


the caution blocks you from the wind

by Sway



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Anal Sex, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 13:45:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8330128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sway/pseuds/Sway
Summary: Eggsy learns five things during those 24 hours with Harry.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This happened due to a chat with my TGC Squad and kind of got its own life from there. Thank you, guys, for keeping the headcanons flowing <3
> 
> The title is from "You Learn" by Alanis Morissette
> 
> And as always, many many thanks to [Krissielee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Krissielee/pseuds/Krissielee) for righting my wrongs.

**1**

The first thing Eggsy learns that night is how to make a proper martini. Actually, he learns how to make five of them, three for him and two for Harry before Harry switches back whisky. 

He learns how to measure the 2cl of gin without actually measuring them. He learns how to stir the drink to perfection as if it’s a chemical compound ready to incinerate the whole block if stirred incorrectly.

Harry chides him for even thinking of using vermouth and dismisses every James Bond quote Eggsy tries on him.

On the second glass, Eggsy loses his jacket and flings it haphazardly across a chair in Harry’s dining room. Harry doesn’t comment, just absently smooths a hand over the silky fabric.

He rolls his eyes when Eggsy confesses the prefers lemon zest over olives because olives are just rank.

“Educating your palate might actually prove more difficult than teaching you how to dismantle an explosive,” Harry says when Eggsy drops a second curl of zest into his glass.

Eggsy takes a sip. “Might need to take me to some posh place for dinner then.”

“I’m afraid we need to postpone that to another day. It’s quite late already.”

“It’s a date then.” Eggsy beams at him and then he learns one more thing.

When Harry smiles, he’s absolutely bloody gorgeous.

 

 

**2**

The second thing Eggsy learns that night is how to properly tie a tie.

“Can you show me how to do that?” Eggsy asks when Harry strips out of his gun holster and smooths a hand over his tie.

“You’ve never worn a tie?”

Eggsy feels heat rush into his cheeks. “Only one of them clip-on things. Place I’m from we only wear ties to court and funerals and the like.”

Without comment Harry pulls off his tie, straightens it out, then hands it to Eggsy. “Give it a try.”

“And strangle myself in the process?”

“If you insist on playing dumb. Come on.” Harry takes him by the shoulder and guides him in front of the mirror in the hall. “Flip up your collar.”

Eggsy does and Harry lays the tie loosely around his neck, carefully adjusting it’s position to Eggsy’s height. He passes the long end over the short, then goes behind and back across the front again. Then he brings the long end forward through the loop around Eggsy’s neck and down under itself again until he tightens the knot up to an inch to Eggsy’s throat.

None of this registers with Eggsy. 

All he does notice is Harry crowded against his back in the narrow hallway, Harry’s arms around him, his hands in front of him, and the scent of his cologne. None of which helps with learning how to tie a four-in-hand knot.

“You think you can do it on your own?” Harry must know that Eggsy hasn’t paid the slightest bit of attention. 

“Sure, guv,” Eggsy says, clears his throat, straightens his back and tries not to choke himself as he goes to work. 

Thankfully, Harry is more forgiving than his silk tie and he loosens the messy knot to show him again. This time, his hands cover Eggsy’s as he goes through the motions again. 

Eggsy still doesn’t know how to tie a tie. 

What he does know is that Harry’s hands are a little calloused, warm and gentle, and Eggsy doesn’t want him to let go. 

What he does know is that Harry’s eyes are the kind of brown that reminds him of chocolate truffles and god, he’s hungry.

What he does know is that Harry smells like home and he doesn’t want to leave.

 

 

**3**

The third thing Eggsy learn that night is that he’s never been kissed before.

Well, he has had kisses before. Some kinda sweet, others kinda sloppy. Where he’s from there’s hardly the time for proper kissing. Everything is rushed and messy.

When he turns to face Harry, there’s all the time in world and everything is in perfect order. 

He looks up at those damned chocolatey eyes, and he notices - for the first time, really, who has the time when jumping out of planes and being bound to train tracks? - the crow’s feet and the little lines around Harry’s mouth.

Of its own volition, Eggsy’s hand goes to Harry’s hip, digging into his shirt right there and Harry freezes.

“Twenty four hours, yeah?” Eggsy says, eyes glued to Harry’s lips.

“Nineteen, to be precise.”

“Right. Better make most of ‘em.” He goes on tiptoes but Harry stills him by placing his hand over Eggsy’s and pushing him away by a fraction.

“Best do it right, then.” 

At first, Harry doesn’t do anything. He just stands there, impossibly close, with his fingers wrapped around Eggsy’s wrist. Eggsy can feel the warmth radiating off him, feels the steady rise and fall over his chest, feels the gentle puff of his breath against his skin.

Eggsy makes another attempt to go for it but Harry stops him yet again. 

“Best do it right,” Harry repeats, more to himself than to Eggsy, as he leans into him. 

Eggsy can taste him even before their lips meet, can taste the whisky and remnants of gin. And he can taste Harry. It’s cheesy and Eggsy would roll his eyes at the chick-flick thought if it would get past an instinctive realization.

Harry’s lips are as warm as his hands and just as soft. That first touch doesn’t even qualify as a kiss but it’s something and if it’s all that’s going to happen Eggsy is fine with that. The second is something else entirely. It’s Harry pressing his mouth to Eggsy’s as if to leave an imprint. The third makes sure Eggsy doesn’t want this to stop.

 

 

**4**

The fourth thing Eggsy learns that night is what it’s like to be seduced.

It’s not Harry’s intention at first. For some reason he’s set his mind to being oblivious as to what Eggsy wants from him. It takes Eggsy cupping his after all quite prominent erection through his pants for Harry to break the kiss and look at him.

“Eggsy…” comes his name along a ragged breath.

“Don’t push me away,” Eggsy interject immediately.

“I wasn’t going to. I…”

“Way I see it, Harry…” Eggsy clears his throat, eyes dropping away from Harry’s and to where a Mountain Apollo is displayed in it’s glass casing. “I ain’t gonna make it through the test tomorrow, whatever it may be.” He doesn’t say the ‘Arthur will see to it, I’m sure’ out loud. “So what then? You’ll retcon me so I won’t remember any of this even exists. So we might as well make it a night to...”

“To what?”

Eggsy shrugs. “Remember.”

Harry looks at him for the longest moment and now it’s actually Eggsy who starts to fret. Is he going too far? Is it too much? It’s one thing to steal a few kisses from somebody - spectacular as they may be - but suggesting… what, exactly? Maybe he should just take that retcon pill right now and…

Harry kisses him then, breaking his thought. Scatters it, to be precise. It’s nothing like before. It’s demanding now. Hungry. 

They make it back up the stairs in a clumsy stumble that’s hardly dignified for a gentleman spy and his protege. 

Harry’s bedroom is dark. Not creepy dark but cozy with its forest green wallpaper and matching carpet, with the heavy curtains and the sturdy hardwood furniture. It’s a cave in the best sense of the word.

Eggsy lands on the mattress, stripped down to his jeans, and he sobers a little when he hits his elbow on the bed frame. 

“Wait…” he breathes as Harry sets to lean over him. “There’s something… I should tell you something.”

Harry pulls back and there’s a flicker of fear in his eyes.

 

“I haven't exactly… done this before.” Eggsy forces the words out as if they stick to his tongue. “I mean I did. Once. Almost. I know what goes where, mind, but it didn’t… Go there. We were getting to it and then Dean came home.”

“Where you hurt?”

“What? No. It just… Put me off it, right? And after, it just didn’t…happen.”

“I understand.”

“That a problem?”

“By no means.” Harry smiles at him with a fondness Eggsy has never seen before. On anyone. “Let me take care of you.”

And he does. Sweet Mother Mary and Joseph and the wee boychild, he does.

Harry undresses and there’s a bit of a show to it. Eggsy can’t help but stare. Guy belongs in a museum. Not because of his slightly advanced age (he’s learned not to say ‘old’ after Merlin had him clean the dog kennel once) but because he would put bloody David to shame. The pressed shirt and tailored trousers hide a deliciously chiseled body, all long, lean lines and ripped muscles.

Eggsy’s mouth waters. He’s never given a thought as to who his type might be, only knowing that most people in the estate were not, but now he knows. 

He’s hard in the proverbial instant, and it all becomes a blur from there.

Somehow his cock ends up in Harry's mouth and he brings him off with the most spectacular blowjob. No, not a job, it’s fucking art.

Still in the haze of his orgasm, Eggsy feels Harry move about him, feels his hands on him, his mouth and tongue. Whatever he’s doing there exactly, it sets Eggsy ablaze.

Harry takes his time with him, preps Eggsy’s mind and body alike until he has him ready and open.

For a fraction, things get technical as Harry pushes a pillow underneath Eggsy’s hips. There’s the crinkle of tinfoil, another cooling trickle of lube, and then Harry goes still against him.

Eggsy looks up at him and those damn brown eyes shine with… What? Anxiety? Curiosity? Fear, even? Damn those NLP lessons. They haven’t exactly covered about-to-be-mind blowing sex yet.

“Don’t stop,” Eggsy says at last. “Please.”

Harry inside him. Harry fucking Hart fucking him.

It hurts. More than Eggsy has expected. Not the hurt of a twisted ankle after a badly landed double flip. Not the hurt of a broken nose after… no. It’s a good kind of hurt, one that spreads heat throughout his lower belly and up his spine, one that makes him cling to Harry, fingers digging deep into his shoulders.

“Are you all right?” That’s Harry’s voice somewhere close to his ear. And that’s his hand in his hair while the other holds his leg by the crook of his knee.

Eggsy doesn’t know if he’s all right, doesn’t know much of anything right now except that it’s the best and the strangest feeling he’s ever had. So he nods a jerky little nod that has him bumping his head against Harry’s shoulder. Whatever he’s trying to put into words, Harry kisses it from his mouth.

This won’t last long. Eggsy is painfully aware of if when Harry tilts his hips just so and sparks shoot up his spine. He feels sticky wetness pool between their bodies but Harry doesn’t seem to care about the mess. Instead, he hooks Eggsy’s leg over his owns hips and wraps his now free hands around Eggsy’s cock.

“Harry…” It’s more a breath than a word.

“I’ve got you.”

It overwhelms Eggsy. All of it. Harry on him with his hands and his mouth. Harry inside of him with his… there’s another hip tilt and Eggsy sees stars. 

This isn’t just physical. It’s more than that, and that’s something Eggsy has never had before. Back where he’s from, people can bust into your room at any given moment, there is no privacy and least of all, there’s no intimacy. Back where he’s from, people would mock, would downright laugh him in the face, if they saw him now.

Now that he’s coming apart in Harry’s arms. Now that there are tears in his eyes that for once he isn’t ashamed of.

Harry holds onto him, strokes him at a relaxed pace that is just on the right side of infuriating, and he kisses the salt from Eggsy’s cheeks.

 

 

**5**

The fifth thing Eggsy learns that night is that Harry Hart, gentleman spy extraordinaire, gets the munchies after sex. 

Of course, he refuses to call it that, refers to it as feeling a bit peckish, as he slides out of bed and returns with a day old scone. 

Eggsy blinks his eyes open, coming to from a little post-coital nap. 

“No crumbs in bed,” he chides, grinning cheekily, as he shifts onto his side to look at Harry.

He’s wearing pajama pants now, the expensive silky kind, and a white t-shirt that looks fresh from the closet with its ironed creases. 

“Did I wake you?”

“Nah. Didn’t even realise you’d gone, to be honest.”

Harry glances over his shoulders, eyes glinting. “Didn’t realize I cleaned you up either.”

Eggsy lifts the bedspread. He’s still naked underneath but he smells soap on his skin. “Thanks?”

“As an agent you mustn’t let your guard down like that.”

There’s something in that line that sits very, very wrong with Eggsy. “I’m no agent yet, now am I?” he spits at Harry pressed t-shirt clad back.

Harry nods and there is something solemn in it. “Forgive me, I didn’t…”

“Was this just another lesson then?” Eggsy sits up, drawing the blanket into his lap. This isn’t something you discuss with your prick out.

“No, it wasn’t,” Harry says immediately. “Which is why…” He pauses, choosing his words carefully before continuing. “The truth is that I haven’t had sex with anyone who wasn’t a target in a long while. I’m afraid my… bedside manners, as they are, are a bit… rusty.”

“I’d say so. They suck.”

“I’m sorry, Eggsy.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just don’t ruin the best night of my life with some line from Arthur’s playbook.”

Harry looks at him. Just looks. There’s… wonder in his eyes. Maybe? Eggsy can’t tell. “It was…”

“Well, yeah.” Eggsy throws his hands up, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. “If you want me to leave, I…”

“I didn’t say that,” Harry interrupts. “I’d very much like you to stay.” He hesitates, smiling more to himself than to Eggsy. “Our time isn’t quite up just yet.”

Eggsy can’t help the smile edging onto his features, his unease dissipating at last. “So come here, then, show us some proper post-coital cuddles.”

For a split-second there is something close to horror in Harry’s eyes at Eggsy’s choice of words. Nonetheless, he climbs into bed and settles down. It’s a little stilted and probably one of the more awkward things Eggsy’s has done but slowly, he manages to shift closer, sidling up to Harry. He doesn’t make full body contact until Harry slides an arm around his shoulders and draws him closer.

“This okay?” Harry isn’t all that confident now that Eggsy is curled against his chest. 

“Very much.” Eggsy buries his nose into the soft fabric of Harry’s shirt. It smells of fabric softener. The expensive kind. “This is…” He clears his throat before he continues, his voice suddenly cloudy. “If this is it, if I don’t… make it tomorrow, then… I think I’d be okay with that. I mean you really shirked that expensive dinner but… I’ll be okay.”

 

 

**+1**

The one thing Harry learns that night is that twenty-four hours is not enough.


End file.
